Another First Kiss Story
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Horrible baking skills, and Valentine's Day, and Teresa. This is what led to Minho's and Newt's first kiss.


Another First Kiss Story

...

"HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!"

This was what Teresa shouted as soon as Minho walked into her living room. She jumped off the couch like a crazy person, her ebony hair pulled back and her blue eyes shining. Dashing across the room, she hauled him into a quick hug, bouncing up on tiptoe because he was taller.

Teresa was ALWAYS hyper during holiday parties at her house. Well, not a PARTY exactly. Just the usual gang from Glade High: Minho, Thomas, her best friend Brenda, Thomas' brother Chuck, sometimes Gally, Newt, and Alby. It always went a little crazy though.

Minho laughed as Teresa drew back and beamed up at him. "You know, some people would think it's weird that a single person is so excited about Valentine's Day," he told her meaningfully.

"Hey, I can get excited as much as I want," she replied, flapping one hand at him. "Besides, I might meet the guy of my dreams today."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I doubt that."

"Hey, it's Valentine's Day!" she protested, and smacked him playfully on the arm. "Anything can happen, right?"

"Whatever you say." He rolled his eyes, than glanced around the room. Gally and Alby were on the couch, laughing and yelling at each other while they played a video game. Thomas stood behind them at the back of the couch, cheering ridiculously. Casually, Minho asked, "is Newt here yet?"

Teresa gave a little gasp of delight and then grinned knowingly at him. "Mayyyyybe," she chirped. She continued to look at him through her dark lashes, placing her hands on her hips.

"You know where he is, or what?" he asked flatly, ignoring her behavior.

"He COULD be in the kitchen with Chuck," she told him. "Possibly. Probably. Maybe." She beamed widely at him.

Minho gave her a funny look. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"No reason!"

"Teresa, you suck at lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"YES, you are."

"NO, I'm NOT," she flashed back, giggling and completely giving it away.

Minho crossed his arms imperiously. "Teresa."

"O-kayyy, you got me." She poked him lightly on the chest. "I know your secret."

He just looked at her. "What secret?"

"Oh, you know..." She cocked her head and wiggled a finger in the direction of the kitchen. "You like Newt."

Of course, he blushed like an idiot. "You're crazy," he replied, his eyes sliding away from her. "I do not."

"Yes, you do! You always ask if he's here first! And you stare at him all the time!" She laughed giddily. "You LIKE him!"

"Okay, first of all, I don't ALWAYS ask if he's here," Minho insisted. "And second of all, I DO NOT LIKE HIM."

"Oh, come. ON. How can you NOT like him? If I didn't feel like all you guys were brothers, I'D like him!" She gave an exaggerated, dreamy sigh. "That boy is capital-H, HOT."

Minho scoffed like this was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard. "You're out of your mind, Teresa," he told her.

She pointed at him teasingly. "You cannot tell me that you can look at those blue eyes of his, and listen to that sexy accent, and NOT swoon like a little girl. Because I know you do."

"Sexy?" Minho echoed drily.

"Shut up, it is sexy. British accents are at the height of sexiness." She beamed again. "The point of this conversation is: you got it BAD for him. And he's got it even worse for you." She winked playfully.

Minho couldn't explain why he suddenly felt so happy about that. "He does? How do you know? Did he say something? Did he tell you?"

She jumped up and down in delight. "Omg, you have such a crush on him!" she squealed, and he groaned, dragging a hand over his face. "And anyway, no, he didn't tell me. But it's so obvious. I saw him staring at you one day, so being a good friend, I very casually mentioned the six-pack you got from track and Lord, I swear, he was undressing you with his eyes."

Minho couldn't stop his dopey smile. "You're kidding me."

"I swear to God," she said, crossing her finger over her heart. "I'm not joking here. C'mon, Minho, you guys are like, perfect for each other! He's hot, and you're hot, and well, that's all I can think of right now, but I KNOW you're meant to be. And don't get all cocky just cuz I said you're hot, you moron."

He shrugged, smirking at her. "You're just telling me what I already know—Ow!" He yelped indignantly when she flicked him on the forehead.

"I said don't be cocky!" she ordered. Then she jabbed a finger at the kitchen door. "Now go in there, and tell him you are in love with him! Don't worry about him rejecting you. Cuz he won't."

Minho rolled his eyes at her again. "Whatever, Teresa," he chuckled, walking past her.

"Be strong!" she hollered from behind. "This is your moment! This is your DESTINY—"

"TERESA SHUT THE SHUCK UP!" Alby and Gally both shouted at the same time.

Minho left them all in the living room and started down the hallway that led to Teresa's gloriously huge kitchen. Halfway there, he passed a mirror and for some reason, he paused. A boy with jet-black hair looked back at him, mocha-deep eyes flecked with gold. The boy studied him. Dark skinny jeans, a gray Fallout Boy T-shirt Chuck had gotten him for a birthday present. He suddenly found himself wondering if Newt would like it. Newt loved Fallout Boy. Then he realized what he was doing. He shook his head and continued on to the kitchen.

The vast room opened up in front of him, all gleaming steel appliances and pale gold walls. The center island was wide and lined with bowls and spoons. Flour and sugar and milk was there too, and a carton of eggs. So were Chuck and Newt. Chuck was reading very loudly from a cookbook propped open in front of him. Flour dusted his curly hair with snowy-white and was smeared across his once-black tee. "One cup of milk! Add it to the bowl!"

"You sure?" Newt was holding a carton of milk over a glass measuring cup a few feet away. His blonde hair shimmered like gold silk under the kitchen lighting. Minho stared. Newt was positively adorable, all soft-looking in his navy Gladers hoodie, a dot of powdered sugar unnoticed on his nose. His accent sounded delicious, like hot chocolate in his voice.

"I'm positive!" Chuck called back. "Two cups of milk!"

Newt's eyes widened as he dumped the milk in. "WHAT? You said one before!"

"What're you talking about?" Chuck demanded, panicked. "I thought I said two!"

"No, you said one!" Newt gazed into the bowl in despair. "We messed up Teresa's cookies."

"Well I can't help it if her cookbooks are covered in crap!" Chuck squinted at the page, scratching his head and sending up a cloud of flour. "Actually, this might say three...or seven."

"There's no way in hell we need seven bloody cups of milk in this." Newt sighed. "We screwed up."

Minho chose that moment to let them know he was there. "Yeah, you did," he agreed in amusement, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He smirked crookedly. "Hope Teresa likes store-bought Valentine's Day cookies."

Chuck broke into a broad grin and Newt turned pink. "Minho!" Chuck exclaimed cheerfully, his sky-blue eyes glowing. "Thought you'd never get here! What's up?"

"Nothing much," Minho replied, smiling. He liked Thomas' little brother. Chuck was always happy and fun to be around. "What're YOU guys doing? This place looks like a war-zone."

"Baking!" Chuck cheered, throwing his arms up.

"Failing," Newt deadpanned. He rested his elbows on the table and pushed his hair out of his face; it flopped right back down again. "We're failing miserably."

"I can tell," Minho joked.

Newt snorted, but a smile tugged at his lips. He met Minho's gaze across the room, and his storm-blue eyes glimmered. Minho felt a dizzy little jump in his heartbeat.

Chuck grinned broadly. "You wanna help, Minho?" he asked hopefully.

Minho hesitated. Get all covered in flour and crap? No, no he didn't. Then he saw Newt and the hope that flickered across his face. He shrugged and pushed off from the doorframe. "Sure, what the heck," he decided. "How hard could it be?"

Well, it was harder than they thought. First, Minho took over the reading of the cookbook, and messed up awfully. It was covered in stains from old cooking incidents and was impossible to read at all. Chuck ended up putting seven eggs into the bowl before Newt could stop him. Then he grabbed the mixer, stuck it in, and turned it on High. Sugar, flour, and eggs flew EVERYWHERE. It splattered the floor, and the island, and the three bakers. Chuck squealed like a little girl and tried to pull the mixer out while it was still running. It got even worse. After that, he was banned from baking ever again.

"This sucks," Minho grumbled, after Chuck had left the kitchen to clean up his clothes. Minho wanted to go with him; he had cookie batter spattered across the front of his shirt and flour was caught in his tousled, spiked hair. "I hate this. I really hate this."

Newt glanced up from where he was attempting to wipe the counter clean. Chuck had spilled a bag of powdered sugar open and it was dusted on Newt's cheekbone and neck, as well as the spot on his nose. "You look hilarious," he snorted, grinning at Minho.

Minho glared at him. "Yeah, well you aren't looking so good either," he replied.

Newt made a face of mock hurt. "Jeez, thanks a lot," he said sarcastically. "And here I thought flour looked good on me."

"Yeah, but it looks better on me," Minho teased. He grabbed a cloth from the sink and started helping clean up the counters. Glancing up, he caught Newt looking at him, lips parted slightly. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach. "What?"

"Um, nothing." Newt looked away again. Sheepishly, he rubbed at the sugar on his face. "Nothing."

Minho suddenly remembered what Teresa had said, about Newt "undressing him with his eyes." He swallowed hard and forced himself not to say anything about that out loud. It was kinda...hot though. He glanced at Newt again and saw the blonde still trying to get the white specks off his cheek. "You missed a spot," he pointed out.

"Huh?" Newt blinked at him questioningly. "Where?"

"Right there." Minho set down his cloth and crossed to stand in front of Newt.

"Where?" Newt repeated, in cute confusion.

"There." Before he could think better of it, Minho lightly poked the speck of sugar on Newt's nose.

Newt blushed adorably. "Oh." He rubbed his nose...and left more sugar on his chin and bottom lip. It was ridiculously funny.

Minho burst out laughing. "Oh my god," he snickered, "that's awesome."

"What?" Newt demanded, searching for more sugar on himself. "What'd I do this time?"

"You just put more on your face."

"Seriously? Where is it?" Newt scrubbed his forehead and cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. He missed every spot of sugar, of course.

"Right there." Without thinking, Minho touched his finger to the white on Newt's lower lip. As soon as he felt Newt's soft skin on his, he sobered. He couldn't move.

Newt froze. His gaze locked on Minho's. "I..." Minho gently stroked his fingertip down Newt's lip and Newt gasped slightly. Against his will, his eyelids fluttered shut, lips parting under Minho's touch in a "just-kiss-me-already" expression. It sent a hot coil of warmth into Minho's stomach. Damn, this British, blonde angel was driving him wild. He'd never known anyone could make him like this.

Before he knew what he was doing, he tipped Newt's chin up with two fingers and brushed their lips together, just once. He felt Newt shudder as he pulled back again. The blonde's gorgeous blue eyes opened, shock in their depths. "D—did you just...?"

Minho took a shaky breath. "I, uh. I think I did."

To his surprise, Newt's mouth quirked into an almost-smirk. "And...?" he asked, cocking his head like, how was it?

"And I'm gonna do it again," Minho murmured quickly, before cupping Newt's face in his hands and capturing his mouth in the deepest, hottest, most incredible kiss he'd ever had. His heartbeat kicked into overdrive, his hands shook, and his entire body lit up. Nobody had ever affected him like this.

Newt kissed him back just as desperately, angling his head. Dear God, Minho could taste the sugar on his lips and it was absolutely addicting. Bold, he licked the sugar from Newt's bottom lip and Newt whimpered into his mouth. He was surprised when the blonde seized him by the hips and hauled their bodies together. Newt was never out of control like this. Now he was kissing Minho like his life was ending. His hands slipped to Minho's stomach, tracing the toned outline of his abs through his shirt. Minho broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

"Holy crap," he managed, still cradling Newt's face.

"I know," Newt breathed back.

"Newt, I think I like you."

"I like you too."

"We can't tell Teresa."

"Hell, no."

"Okay."

"God, you're sexy."

"Kiss me again," Minho pleaded, crushing their mouths together once more. Newt melted into him, looping his arms around his waist and sliding his hands up Minho's back. Minho laced his fingers through Newt's hair, just like he'd always wanted, and ran the blonde velvet between his fingers. Newt sighed sharply in pleasure. His fingertips fell to the hem of Minho's shirt, hooking underneath. "Oh god, ever since I saw you, I've wanted to do this," Newt breathed shakily, and slipped his hands up under Minho's shirt. He ran his palms over Minho's abs, the whole way up to his chest, trembling at the feel of steely muscle under his fingers.

Minho broke the kiss, whimpering at the sensation of Newt touching him, skin on skin. "Newt," he murmured, nuzzling into the curve of Newt's neck. He inhaled his scent, a sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar. His head spun. "Angel." The name left him without him meaning it to.

Newt pulled back, searching Minho's gaze. "What?" Minho asked hesitantly.

"You called me angel." Newt's voice brimmed with emotion.

"Well, I...I mean—" Minho stuttered and then sighed. He knew he was about say the cheesiest thing ever, but oh well. "You look like one," he mumbled. "You're gorgeous."

Newt's eyes slid away, and he bit his lip to stop a goofy smile. Then he pecked Minho's nose and rested their foreheads together. "I really—" He broke off with a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "I really, really like you, Min."

Minho grinned. "Hey, I really, really like you too," he replied like he was just realizing it.

"I might even—" Newt stopped himself. He softly kissed Minho's mouth, turning Minho's knees into jelly. When he drew back, Minho saw it in his eyes: I might even be in love with you.

"Yeah," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Me too."

Newt smiled, then tugged at Minho's shirt. "Fallout Boy?" he asked suspiciously. "Did you wear this just cuz I like them?"

"Shut up." Minho huffed at Newt's knowing look. That little adorable shank. "Happy freaking Valentine's Day."

Newt arched an eyebrow. "What's my present?" he asked, linking his hands behind Minho's neck.

And Minho smiled. "Me."


End file.
